The photograph trembled ever so slightly between Ashwin's fingers—not from the chill of the air conditioning, but from the storm within. The image, grainy and dim under the neon glare of a streetlamp, depicted a shadowed figure mid-stride. Most people would overlook it as a blurred footnote from CCTV footage. But Ashwin knew better.

"This is her," he said quietly, handing the photo to Atharv, his voice tight with a pain he hadn’t fully admitted—not even to himself.